Lovebirds
by Disillusionment
Summary: Lies break a girl down into wanting forgiveness from her past, but the stranger she meets brings upon a whole new set of problems including the presence of death
1. Default Chapter

She trotted down the street her worn down boots barely making a sound as she ducked into the alley. Once sure of her surroundings she stopped to check her injuries. She hiked up her skit to reveal a nice large cut on her calf. She dropped the skirt when she saw it was nothing merely more then a scrape. Finding a piece of glass she scowled at her dirt brown hands. It sickened her to think that she was that dirty. Then again falling into the mud would do it for anyone. Finding a broken bottle she glanced at her reflection.

"Great." she muttered. A nice large shiner was forming under and around her right eye.

"Stupid good for nothing bastard." she spat angrily throwing the glass onto the cobblestone ground watching it break into shards.

"You know," began a voice. "If you just learned to keep ya mouth shut Irish ya wouldn't have this damn problem."

"Shove it Bittah!" Irish spat angrily. She heard a giggle. "You to Relic."

She looked up at the two girls. Relic was what guys looked for in a girl, long flowing brown hair with hazel eyes and she was drunk nearly all the time once the sun set. Any man's friend. Not that she was easy, but she gave a good chase. She usually won though, leaving the man holding ice over his lower regions. Bittah just had this badass aurora about her. Most guys loved her, and she was a rather pleasant person when you got to know her, but before you did, she was a cold hearted bitch and you just didn't mess with her.

"So who was this guy who did this to ya?" asked Relic leaning against the building for support.

"I have no idea, some greasy Italian guy." Irish spat. Bittah let out a small chuckle.

"Well it will teach ya to mind ya own damn business then." she grinned with a nod. Relic hesitated a moment then nodded in agreement. Irish frowned at the two, she knew they were right, they were always right about this sort of thing.

"Well he shouldn't of been treatin' no newsie like that, no matter how small she looks." Irish said definitely lighting up a cigarette.

"What exactly happened?" came a masculine voice from behind Relic and Bittah.

"What is this! The fucking press!" screamed Irish outraged. Why did everyone always have to know everything all the time when it happened?

"Youse in my territory you speak up ya got that?" Spot responded crudely. Irish glared at him. They had this love hate relationship.

"Well Relic, maybe we should leave the two lovebirds alone then." smirked Bittah and Relic smirked and the two exited the alley.

"Stay tonight in Brooklyn, you know da rules Jacky boy don't want anyone wanderin home to late." called Relic as she disappeared from sight.

She groaned and then looked at Spot.

"You can bunk with me." he said gruffly as he started out of the alleyway. Rolling her eyes Irish followed him.

The pair, Bittah and Relic, sauntered down the street approaching the Manhattan Lodging house when they caught sight of a new girl they had never seen before. Hiding, the two began to eavesdrop.

"Davey, I just don't feel right around the other girls. It's not that I don't like them, I just I don't know don't feel comfortable that's all." Bittah and Relic exchanged a confused look.

"Queens, please, one more chance, Gip really ain't all that bad. She's just a trouble maker. I swear it to you, that's all. She didn't mean everything she said, neither did Marsh and Sneaks she just joins in because she looks up to all the other girls." said David in almost a pleading tone. The girl shook her head and sighed.

"Maybe you're right Davey, maybe you're right. Just one more time that is all." she said kissing him on the cheek before walking away. David stood there and watched her leave. Relic and Bittah made their presence known before walking into the lodging house. Then they both galloped down the hallway to tell Gip, Marsh and Sneaks what Irish had done that day.

Walking into the lodging house Irish pulled her hair down out of its bun. Her black hair spilled down onto her back and she ran her fingers through it. She heard a whistle and immediately knew who it was.

"Shove it Pomp." she snapped at the boy as she followed Spot upstairs to the bunkroom.

"Looks like Spot's getting somethin tanight!" A few rounds of laughter reached her ears as she continued up the steps. Spot took her into another room.

"We cleaned out the old closest, this is me room since I did all da work. Ya will sleep here tanight and I'll sleep in da bunkroom. 'Cause I ain't leavin ya in there with guys like Pomp." he said pulling back the covers.

"You ain't expectin me ta sleep now are ya?" she said looking out a window. "It's still light out."

"Nope, but ya are stayin in here, until ya tell me what happened out dere, ya got dat?" Spot said with a slight nod. Irish scowled at him.

"Fine."

Gip was howling on the floor by the time Bittah and Relic had finished re-enacting the fight between Irish and the Italian.

"So why did she hit him?" asked Sneaks still somewhat confused on the situation.

"Irish nevah said why…" said Relic slowly, "Come to think of it." Gip stopped mid laugh eyebrow arched.

"Den something is up. Irish ain't the type of girl, unless she's drunk, to go around startin fights with no one." Marsh nodded in agreement.

"Somethin is defiantly up."

Relic and Bittah exchanged a glance.

"She also ain't one to hide nothing from us either." The girls all looked around at each other trying to figure out what Irish was hiding. Sneaks cleared her throat. This was making her uneasy.

"How about we go and get somethin' ta eat." she suggested. The talking began up again and the groups of five headed down to Tibby's.

"He just pissed me off dat's all!" cried Irish for the nearly tenth time as Spot interrogated her.

"He pissed ya off so ya hit him? A guy who is known ta be lurkin around dese new gang members and such and ya just go off and hit him!" Spot asked skeptically. "You may be nuts Irish, but ya ain't stupid. And neither am I. Now tell me why ya really hit him." asked Spot.

Something in Irish snapped.

"Because I'm tired of him always hoitin me!" she screamed. Releasing those words into the air brought upon a new feeling of relief, then quickly regret. Spot's eyebrows shot up into the arched position.

"What do you mean hoitin' ya?" he asked carefully, but sternly.  
"Nothin, I just mean he's always sayin mean things ta me." Irish said as she began to pace the room.

"Irish, if you went off the handle for everyone sayin something mean ta ya, Pomp would no longer be alive." Spot commented. Irish looked over at him. Her face was flustered. "It ain't nothing alright?" she said growing angry. Spot stood up as he watched Irish's body began to tense up. He knew how he'd get the information out of her.

"What does he hit ya?" Spot asked bring his hand from his side to almost Irish's face, but she stopped him, not even flinching.

"No." she spat angrily.

"He call you a whore Irish? Talk about what ya used ta do?" he said touching some on her hidden past. Still Irish remained still, her face gave away nothing.

"No." she held her ground defiantly.

"No," Spot paused then got an idea, "But he does make you keep giving him more." while he said that he slid his hands down Irish's sides to her hips and running his left hand up under her chest cupping her breast in his hand. Irish's whole body went tense. She stared Spot straight in the eye. She wasn't about to let her guard down. Especially to some womanizer named Spot Conlon. But in her head she secretly pleaded for Tease, one of the few newsgirls in Brooklyn, to appear.

"He touches ya, doesn't he Irish." Spot said kissing her neck. Irish stood her ground, but slowly she felt her hands begin to shake. With his right hand he lifted up her skirt, putting his warm hand on her thigh and moving it up towards her hip. Irish snapped and pushed him away.

"Get off of me!" she screamed tears in her eyes. Spot got his answer. The once tough Brooklyn raised girl looked smaller and weaker then Manhattan's very own Les. Cold tears crawled down her cheeks and Spot looked at her before opening the door.

"I…" started Spot, his head reacting against his gut instinct to protect her.

"I'll come and check on you later." he said as he exited the room. Irish stared after him, tears crawling down her cheeks, the crawl quickly turned into torrents as she sat on the bed and cried.


	2. Seduction and Violence

Down at the local Irish Pub Killian sat next to a greasy short Italian looking boy, known by the name of Nero.

"You talk to her for me?" asked Killian as he sipped on his whiskey sour. Nero nodded, ice to his face.

"Yea, I talked to her alright." he growled smoking a cigarette. Killian nodded a smirk on his face as he licked the remaining whiskey off his lips.

"Good."

Laughing and talking Sneaks, Gypsy, Marsh, Bittah and Relic swallowed down on some food. Tears were in the eyes of the newsgirls as they continued to laugh hysterically as Sneaks attempted to imitate the girl they had seen earlier with David. Sneaks held her head high and stuffed some food down the front of her shirt. Finger to the end of her nose she pulled it up as far as she could. She walked around as if she were all hoity toity and full of sass. A boy clearing his throat sent a nasty glare their way. Sneaks stopped mid sentence as she turned around her nose still pulled up. David stood there with Jack and Queens. Tears clearly lined her eyes. Relic stood up when she saw Jack.

"We don't mean nothing by it I swear." said Relic quickly. She held out her dirty hand to the girl. Queens looked at her and then her hand and then walked away swiftly. David looked at them before running out after her.

"Good job teaching her to act like that Relic." snapped Jack. Relic looked crushed.

"Jack…"she started. But Jack walked the other way. Relic watched him leave and Sneaks slowly let go of her nose. Bittah, Gypsy and Marsh sat there mouths open wide as they watched the scene before them.

Drawing a bath in the boys washroom Spot boiled the water and kept adding to the slowly filling bath. He watched the water steam so he knew it would keep warm, long enough to get cleaned off. He lit a few candles to keep the light in the washroom going. The boys had long gone to bed and he had assumed Irish had to, since no noise from her room could be heard. He began to undress and stepped into the warm water that was just a bit to warm from his taste. He sank underneath the water then up again wiping his face off. He sat back and relaxed lost in thought. He didn't hear the knock at the door.

With no response from the knock Irish walked into the washroom thinking it was safe to enter and draw a quick bath. She turned to close the door and turned back around. She gasped.

"Oh Spot, I'm sorry!" she said turning around quickly. Spot jumped in the water making it splash and putting out three of the five candles. Quickly Irish turned to open the door.

"No, wait. I'm done. Hold on." he said grabbing a towel and wrapping it around himself as he got out of the water.

"You decent yet?" she asked without turning around.

"Yea, I'm decent." Spot said wiping the water from his face. Irish turned back around and looked at the boy who stood before her, her face was still flushed red.

"I'm sorry, I knocked and no one answered, so I figured it be alright if I came in." Irish said her face still flushed.

"Sorry, I thought you had gone to bed." Spot said looking at her. He felt his eyes graze over her body.

"You mind if I draw a bath, my body hurts and I think a bath would do me some good." Irish said looking away from him.

"Yea, ya can help ya self." he said moving away from the bathtub.

"Can you unbutton my dress?" she asked softly. She always had Bittah help her. Bittah knew she had scars. And the recent marks she held dearly on her stomach away from wandering eyes. She knew Bittah would never ask questions. Spot looked at her and gently walked up behind her and began unbuttoning her dress.

"This must be a huge task every morning." he tired to joke softly. She forced a small laugh.

"That it is." she whispered. Her rough New York accent had faded away into a softer Irish one.

"Never knew ya talked like dat." said Spot softly.

"Me mother was born and raised in Ireland. Came over here and married some Brooklyn man. She made me learn how at talk in the way of me true home land." she said softly. Spot's fingers gently brushed her back. He unbuttoned the dress down to just below her waist. Then he gently pushed the blue fabric off her shoulders. Her back and bare shoulders showed scars that had to be years old, some looked rather new. Softly he ran his fingers down her back exposing her mid and lower back where dark bruises were visible.

Relic and Bittah walked home from Tibby's. They had left long after Marsh, Sneaks and Gip.

"You sweet on Jack?" asked Bittah carefully. Relic glanced over at Bittah then back at the street.

"Maybe." she shrugged. As she headed down towards a bar. Bittah followed suit.

"I think a drink is in for a requirement tonight sweetheart." Bittah smiled as she threw her arm around Relic. Relic nodded as she counted the money from her pocket.   
"I'se got enough for bout four drinks." said Relic with a slight hint of disappointment. Bittah counted her change.

"Don't worry I'se got ya covered."

Irish slowly uncrossed her arms in the front, while doing so her dress slowly slid down her arms exposing more of her back. She slowly pulled the dress down in front of her, as it stuck a bit around her hips. Spot took his hands away but stood in place. Irish stood still, only her underwear, which was a pair of boys underwear covered her lower half. She turned her head to the side for a moment and glanced at him then faced forward again. Spot hesitated a moment before coming up behind her. His hands gently touched her milky white sides and pulled her up against him, so he could feel her skin against his own. He kissed her temple then slowly turned her around. She then crossed her arms over her chest as Spot turned her around. His eyes grew wide with shock when he saw her stomach. Dark bruises were on her hips and lower abdomen. He bent over and gently touched them and he felt her pull away from his touch. He stood up and looked at her. Tears on her eyes. She blinked a few times and bit her lip trying to hold the tears in.

"Ya lucky Spot," she whispered, "Almost no one sees me cry." she said her voice cracking when she said the word 'one'.

"This is what the fight was about wasn't it." said Spot now understanding what had happened earlier.

"Somewhat. He wasn't the guy who did it." she whispered as the first tear broke free.

"Hard times Low times, sometimes we live in defeat!" sang Relic glass in her hand, doing her own rendition of Medda's song. Nero and Killian sat a few tables away watching them with a smile. Bittah was going from table to table singing with various men, when she approached the pairs table she caught Killian's eye. The boy had the body of a mineworker, strong and thin. He had beautiful gray eyes that were accentuated by long dark eyelashes. Bittah came and sat herself down on his lap singing along with Relic as she did so.

"Evenin' gentlemen, how are you tonight?" she laughed looking between Nero and Killian.

"Just fine miss." Nero said winking at Killian before excusing himself.

"Care to join me for a walk?" Killian directed at the blonde girl. Bittah smiled, all warm from the alcohol.   
"Sure mistah, give me a minute." she ran over to Relic and whispered a good bye before going to meet Killian at the door.

Last thing Relic saw was Bittah exit the door and Killian glance over at her and wink, then close the door behind him.

Once outside Killian and Bittah were all over each other. Passerby just ignored them.

"Let's just go somewhere a bit more private." whispered Killian as he took Bittah's hand and led her to his house, above a church.

"Hurry up, get into the tub before the water gets cold." said Spot pulling away from her, intimidated by the tears. Irish didn't cry, at least not in front of people and it made him uncomfortable. She nodded and he exited the washroom. Closing the door behind him Irish climbed into the tub leaving her hair dry. She soaked in the tub a moment just giving Spot a chance to get dressed.

In the bunkroom Spot pulled on a pair of pants and threw the wet towel on a bunk. Then went back into the washroom, locking the door behind him.

She had left the three candles unlit and let the two burn down to almost nothing. He pulled up a chair from the sink which a younger newsie used to stand upon to pretend to shave. Irish had her eyes closed and the water had turned a slight brown color tinted slightly with red from the dried blood. Sitting down in a chair Spot looked down at Irish. He could barely see her body outlined in the water.

"Wanna tell me wha-…" asked Spot carefully choosing his words.

"I met this guy." she started quickly, cutting him off. Spot kept his mouth shut and listened. "He's a real good looking guy. He told me about this church. I wanted forgiveness, for everything I had done. For the work, for the murder, for everything. I don't know anything about God or anything, but he told me I would be forgiven. So I started goin' there. Talkin out loud asking for someone to forgive me. Wanting someone to forgive me. He told me that we all had deeds to pay for, and if I wanted to be forgive I had to do what he said. So I did it. I did it all. When I told him I wanted to be done being forgiven he'd get mad, and he'd hurt me. But those eyes, oh god those eyes they were just so entrancing, I couldn't say no. I couldn't stay away from those eyes. They looked just like…" she stopped and looked away from Spot.

"Like what…" Spot asked looking at her intently.

"no one." Irish said sitting up quickly splashing water on the ground and knocking the candles out. The room grew dark. Stumbling out of the tub Irish groped around for a towel. Upon finding one, she wrapped it around herself and dried her body off. She grabbed for her clothes but hit Spot's hand instead. Slowly Irish stood slowly. Only shadows could be seen from the windows, but barely any light came through. She held on to Spot's strong calloused hands, from years of work. With the other hand she reached in front of her, her hand hitting Spot's soft flesh. A shiver went through Spot's body as her gentle fingertips traced his chest. With his free hand he felt her for face, his fingers gently caressing her jaw line before he cupped her chin in his hands. Slowly he brought his face to hers, and kissed her softly on the tip of her nose, then kissed her on the lips. She put her arm around him pulling his chest to hers as the towel fell down around her ankles. Pulling her delicate body all the way up against his own he wrapped his arms around her. Before pulling away slowly and wrapping the towel around her and carrying her to his room. He shut the door locking it behind him.

Bittah awoke the next morning, her head pounding and her insides churning. Next to her lay the bare back of a sleeping man. She put her feet on the cold wooden floor and then began to get dressed. She hesitated a moment before leaving the room and heading to the distribution center.

Upon arriving there she was met by a frantic Jack.

"Where is Relic?" he asked concerned.

"I don't know, she was supposed to come home." said Bittah confused and not really at all capable of dealing with this right now. A pale faced Sneaks came barreling into the distribution center.

"Bittah, jack, da bulls, dey are at da lodgin house. Dey found Relic last night." she said in a scared voice. Bittah and Jack looked at each other.

"Jack stay here, send Gypsy to Brooklyn and get Irish back here now." she said. "Da bulls dey can't see ya. Or ya will be put in da refuge." Jack nodded but his face showed panic. He'd go to Brooklyn himself. He needed some answers.

Bittah took of running towards the lodging house and bounded up the front steps inside. Kloppman stood there hat off talking to the bulls. All three men looked at her.

"Harmony," began Kloppman. He used a different name for the newsies to hide their identity.

"They found Relic this morning in an alley. Some woman was kind enough to take her to the hospital, but they don't know if she will make it."

Bittah looked back and forth between the three men.

"Dat's bullshit." she muttered. Anger fumed inside of her.

"Where is she?" she asked the bulls.

"Down the block from here." he said pointing towards his right. Bittah didn't wait. She ran to the hospital and into the waiting room demanding to see Relic. Finally a nurse after much deliberation let Bittah back into the room.

"Just please miss, be prepared. We haven't seen a girl in this bad of shape in a while." warned the nurse. Bittah entered the room to see Gypsy and Marsh standing against the wall eyes wide and tears on their cheeks. Bittah looked to the bed. The sheets were dyed red from the blood. Relic's face was swollen and her lip cracked and scabbed. Anger grew inside of her.

"It was him." whispered Relic hoarsely. "It was him." she said before she began to cough and blood dripped out of her mouth. Bittah looked at Gypsy and with out saying anything Gypsy understood. Bittah ran from the room, hatred and anger fueled her exhausted body as she headed towards Brooklyn.

A loud banging on the front door awoke Irish from her deep slumber. She shivered and pulled the blanket up around her and then looked beside her. Spot lay next to her, his key hung from his neck against his chest that slowly rose with each breath. Half awake Spot pulled Irish to him. She nuzzled up against his neck, trying to get warm. When shouting erupted downstairs.

"I don't give a flying fuck if you don't know where Spot is. You find him now!" bellowed Jack. The voice of the other newsie couldn't be understood but stomping of feet up the stairs were clearly audible. A moment later there was a pounding at the door.

"Spot, open the damn door now, I don't care what whore you have in your bed, open your fucking door now." growled Jack.

Pulling away from Irish, Spot stood and pulled on a pair of pants then went over to the door to let Jack in. When Jack came in and caught sight of Irish, his face flushed red.

"Excuse me." he said flustered.

"Don't worry about it." Irish yawned as she stretched.

"Now why in hell's name are you hollerin and screamin like dat around here at dis time!" asked Irish pulling the blanket up around her.

Jack looked at her a moment and rubbed his jaw.

"Relic didn't come home last night." he said. Irish just shrugged.

"Relic does dat all da time. She must of found some guy or place to crash." Irish stated simply. The three girls were never staying at the lodging house where they paid to board.

"Da bulls, dey found her, dis morning. Something ain't right." said Jack shaking his head. Anger grew inside of Irish.

"I'll be out in a minute Jack." she said motioning to the door. Jack took the hint and left. Irish stood quickly and searched for her dress. She pulled it on and Spot buttoned it up for her. She pulled her hair up into a messy bun and turned to face Spot.

"Spot…" she started but stopped.  
"I know, you've gotta go." he said with a nod. He felt a weird pang of worry, and jealousy for her leaving for Relic. Irish nodded and started to walk away but stopped and came back to him.

"Spot." she said getting his attention, before kissing him deeply on the lips. He kissed her back and then slowly pulled away.

"Go." he said. Irish nodded and putting her switchblade into her boot she exited the room, and flew down the stairs.

"What happened with you and Irish last night Spot?" asked Jack a moment after Irish had left.

"ya know Jacky boy. I can't really tell ya, cause I really don't know." he said. He wasn't lying. He had slept with many women, and her with many men, but something about her made last night just feel different.

"She'll be alright Spot." reassured Jack. Spot nodded and then motioned him into his room.

"You make sure you find out what you can and let me know. Dis sounds like its more den just something dat Bittah and Irish can handle on dere own." Jack nodded.

"I promise ya, I won't let nothing happen to 'er." Jack said with a stern voice. He spit into his hand and held it out. "Ya got me word."


	3. Deliberation

Bittah ran as fast as her legs could carry her. Wearing pants was a definite plus, compared to Irish who was running down the streets of Brooklyn towards Manhattan in a skirt. Running right past Bittah Irish skidded to a halt.

"Bittah wait!" she screamed out of breath, face flushed. Bittah slowed her pace to a walk and turned around putting her hands on her hips as she walked.

"Damn woman, nevah again are ya stayin out in Brookyln. Ya got dat? It's way to far for a damn run." She said shaking her head.

"Yea, yea whatever. What happened to Relic. I get woken up dis morning by Jack pounding on a door, hollerin and screamin for Spot." Irish said wiping her brow that was beaded with sweat.

"You slept with Spot!?" asked Bittah as she hit the girl in the shoulder.

"What were ya thinking? Are you nuts? You know how many girls he goes through. At least 3 a week!" Bittah exclaimed exasperated.

"Shut up." Irish said defensively.

"Right…We'll talk about dis more latah when Relic is around to beat ya ass." Bittah nodded satisfied. "Now last night we went to dis bar, called Night's Tavern. Down in lower Manhattan near da Kitchen. Relic was drinking and singing, da usual. I leave and get to da distribution center dis morning to have Sneaks come runnin' up hollerin dat da bulls are at da lodgin house and dat dey got Relic. Now I panic thinking dat Relic got herself locked up last night. Turns out she got da shit beaten outta her. She ain't doin to hot and she's at da hospital. Some old woman took pity on 'er and sent 'er dere. Dere's blood soaked in da sheets and she coughs it up." Bittah said growing quieter. Irish's face paled.

'Who?" she asked in a soft tone. Bittah shrugged.

"Ya got me. Dey found 'er in some random alley."

Irish nodded and then began to think.

"Did Relic say anything?" Irish asked hoping Relic had enough energy to talk.

"All she said was, 'It was him.' And dat was it." Bittah shrugged, she turned and began to walk back towards Manhattan.

"It was him?" said Irish confused.

"You got me." Bittah responded shrugging again, "You gotta light?"

Irish reached into her pocket and pulled out a cigarette handing it to Bittah. It was him. The concept made sense maybe some guy Relic had a problem with came to settle their differences. But there was no way to tell.

"All I know is dat dis just ain't right." Irish said frowning lighting up her own cigarette.

"You're telling me bout it." Bittah said exhaling the toxic smoke slowly. "Now to talk about something on a different note, care to indulge me on Spotty boy last night?"

"I can't really tell ya anything. It just sorta happened dat's all." said Irish. Bittah looked at her skeptically.

"I mean, I wanted to take a bath, no one said anything when I knocked on da washroom door, so I walked in. Spot was in dere. I turned around he got out, I got in. We talked a bit…"

"While ya were naked, in da tub?" asked Bittah looking at her. A woman walking by looked at her.

"Shove it Bittah, and yes I was. Den I got out, spilled water all over da place knocked out the candles and was trying to find da towel, instead I found Spot's hand and den we were holdin hands and he cupped my jaw lifted my head up and kissed me. One thing lead to another and I was in his room. Which by the way was where I was gonna sleep anyways." Irish finished with a nod.

Bittah just stared at her with disbelief.

"What?" asked Irish turning red.

"Oh no, don't tell me!" she exclaimed throwing her hands into the air. "You like da bastard don't ya!" she cried. Irish hit her.

"Watch ya damn language." she snapped. They were approaching the hospital.

"How bad is she?" asked Irish changing the subject.

"bad." was all Bittah said before they walked into the hospital. Irish followed Bittah to Relic's room. Irish gasped when she saw her.

"Oh Relic." she said tears stung her eyes. The girl looked as if she were dead and Gypsy sat in a chair in the corner. She was sound asleep.

"Heya Irish." Relic said softly, which she barely choked out. Irish smiled half heartedly.

"Don't talk yet," Irish said softly. "We're gonna find out who did dis and we are gonna take care of dem."

Killian and Nero walked side by side through Central Park.

"Remember that girl from last night?" asked Killian nonchalantly.

"Yea." Nero responded not really paying attention.

"She wasn't all that bad." he smirked.

"Ya, well shows she's got experience." Nero snickered. "That other girl, the one friends with Irish, I took care of her last night. Stupid bitch tired to put up a fight. I think I've got her finished off. Left her in an alley." Nero finished up.

"Good, take out Irish like you said you would and you'll get your money's worth and maybe a round with the girl I got last night." Killian laughed as he walked away from Nero.


	4. Virtues

Bittah had taken a seat next to Relic's bed so Gypsy could sell.  
"How are we gonna pay for this?" Relic gasped, her voice soft and scratchy.  
"Don't worry about it. We'll figure something out." Bittah replied softly rubbing her hand a bit. A worried Jack rushed into the hospital room. What little enthusiasm left in Relic shone through. "I came as soon as I could." Jack said breathlessly. He had run all the way from Central Park, although not to far of a run, with a lot of people on the streets, it was harder then anything.  
"Heya Jack." Relic smiled. Bittah watched the two of them but kept her spot in the chair. Irish glanced at them and tipped her head.  
"I'll be carrying out now. I've got some business to attend to." No one really acknowledged her exit but she didn't care. She had come up with some thesis. This attack on Relic, had to do with her. She knew it. It was a gut feeling. She took a right out of the hospital and headed down into downtown Manhattan. She had a morning service to attend.

"and peace to his people on earth…Amen, amen, amen…"snag the church goers. Irish took a spot in on of the back pews. She glanced around the room as she joined in with the singing. The sharp cheek bones, long eyelashes and cryan eyes caught her attention. She felt her breath catch in her throat.  
"Amen…" she said holding out the 'en'. She sat with the rest of the church. Her stomach churned. She kept her eyes on the priest but she could see Killian rise from his pew and make his way out of the church. She would linger after the service, in hopes to avoid him.  
"Relic, I'm sorry, about what I said the other night. About everything wit Queens. I didn't mean it, I really didn't." Jack said desperately.  
"She's not dyin Jack." Said Bittah flatly. She hated this mushy crap. Bittah took a cigarette out and tucked it in behind her ear. Her blonde hair falling over it.  
"Ah!" Relic gasped when she saw Bittah's actions.  
"What!" panicked Jack. "What's wrong!" he gasped.  
"Nothing…" Relic said with a coy smile. "I just saw that cigarette though, and I really want one." She blushed slightly. Bittah laughed.  
"This is how we know Relic will be all right." Bittah laughed.  
"Let's see if we can get you outta here." She said standing up and walking towards the receptionist chair.  
Jack turned and looked over at Relic.  
"Thought we might lose ya." He said softly.  
"Nah…why would ya think that?" She said sitting up slowly, her body sore and the cuts stung as she pulled at the stitches that held them closed.  
"Sneaks told me what happened, along with Gip. Thought we would lose ya." he shrugged.  
"Well it's nice to know that I would be missed." smirked Relic a sarcastic tone in her voice.  
"Great, a sarcastic, injured girl coming back to my lodging house. These next few days will be interesting." he laughed as he kissed her forehead.

The mass had ended and almost no one remained. She rose tentatively and began her way out of the church. She had made it about twenty feet when a smooth cool voice met her ears.  
'Morning Irish." he smiled. On any other occasion, a voice like Killian's would make a girl melt, but not Irish, not after what he had done to her. Her body froze but she tried to keep walking to the best of her ability.  
"Where ya goin' sweetheart?" he cooned grabbing her arm and pulling her up against him. She could taste the bitter bile in her mouth. Her stomach churned uneasily.  
"It's been a while since we've talked." he added with a sarcastic tone. He turned her down the nearest ally and to the fire escape. Irish didn't fight. She knew she'd lose. She had watched Killian kill a man with out hesitation, and it was over a couple of dollars. Once in the bedroom he closed the door. Then turned around and shoved her against the wall. Her skirt was up around her midline in seconds and his hands all over her body.  
"Please, don't." she whispered tears in her eyes.  
"Why, I know you like it whore." he snapped glaring at her. She looked away from him trying not to throw up.  
But the tears didn't phase Killian as he undressed her, exposing her body. He held her arms above her head and raped her. Irish didn't struggle. She just closed her eyes tightly and tried to wish it all away. 


End file.
